


Phantom Life

by VagrantWriter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Fluff and Angst, Implied Genital Mutilation, Kid Fic, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Sexual Content, Sibling Bonding, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VagrantWriter/pseuds/VagrantWriter
Summary: Theon is blessed with a wonderful marriage to his high school sweetheart, two beautiful children, and loving friends and family. But is his life a dream come true? Or just a dream?





	1. You Weren't Real

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/22515.html?thread=16619507#t16619507): 
> 
> _Theon and Robb are happily married in modern times. They even have two kids (same egg donor but one biologically Robb's and other Theon's). Theon owns a luxury yacht customisation business. Robb is the CEO of his family's conglomerate. They have a great life. But then one day, Theon (and only Theon) is invaded by the memories of his GoT self..._
> 
> I changed just a few of the details in the prompt.

_There was so much noise. The screaming of women, the hollering of men, the trampling of horses’ hooves. And above it all, the high-pitched wail of a child. He felt heat on his skin, and the smell of burning houses mingled with the smell of burning bodies. He gagged against it._

_This…this wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this!_

_Where…where was…?_

_He ran across the courtyard, hands fumbling for his sword. He…he had to…_

_The smoke burned his eyes. He threw his free hand over his mouth, coughing as the acrid smell of burning flesh filled his lungs. Coughing as he…_

Theon woke with a deep gasp. Sat up and began coughing in earnest. A hand was on his back, easing him through his fit. “You okay?”

He finished coughing and turned to Rob with a reassuring smile. “Sleep apnea’s acting up again,” he explained, hand to his throat. “Did I wake you up snoring?”

Rob shook his head, red curls a mess. Theon loved his bedhead. “You were talking.”

“What’d I say?”

“Just nonsense. You looked like you were having a nightmare, though.”

“I think I was. I dreamt there was a fire and I didn’t know where to go.”

Rob nodded in understanding. “Probably because of the fire drills Laura made us do all week.” He cupped Theon’s cheek. “It’s still a few hours before you have to get up. Try to get a little more sleep.”

Rob started to sink back into his pillow, but the way Rob’s hair was tousled, the stubble on his cheeks, the unguarded sleepiness made Theon pull him in for a kiss. God, what had he done to deserve this man? What saint had he been in a previous life to wake up to this every morning?

Rob sputtered and pulled away. “Morning breath,” he laughed, punching Theon lightly on the arm. “You’ve been sleeping with your mouth open.”

Theon went after him. “Oh no you don’t.” He wrapped his arms around Rob’s bare waist—Rob only ever slept in his pajama bottoms, Theon rarely wore anything. “Come here. Let me _breathe_ on you.” His fingers found Rob’s ribs.

“Stop!” Rob shrieked in laughter. “I’ll kick you!” His legs kicked out but, predictably, hit nothing.

Theon continued to tickle with abandon.

“Stop, stop!” There were tears in Rob’s eyes now as he laughed. “I haven’t—I’ll wet the bed!”

“Oh, you’re going to wet the bed?” Theon taunted. “Will I have to take you over my lap afterwards and give you a good, hard spanking?”

“Daddy?”

They both stopped immediately at the sound of the little voice. Eddie, the younger at age four, stood in the open doorway, sleepily rubbing his eyes. Theon swore—under his breath, of course—and pulled the sheets up to cover himself while Rob sat up straight. “Eddie, sweetie, what is it?” he asked.

“I had a bad dream.”

Rob gave Theon an apologetic look, but Theon nodded. Early morning grown-up time was cut short. Rob went to scoop Eddie into his arms and bring him to the bed while Theon discretely pulled on a pair of boxers lying close by.

As soon as he was on the bed, Eddie squirmed out of Rob’s grasp and plastered himself against Theon’s chest. That was…somewhat odd. His older sister, Laura, was a cuddler and loved hugging everyone, including strangers. But Eddie had never been a demonstrative child. “Daddy,” he said, burrowing into Theon’s arms. “I had a bad dream about you.”

“About _me_?” Theon laughed, wrapping arms around the tiny head of red hair.

“I dreamt you weren’t real.”

Theon froze at that. Maybe it was the wording. Or maybe it was just that he hadn’t been expecting such a thing to come out of his four-year-old’s mouth. Most children had nightmares about monsters and bad strangers, didn’t they?

“Daddy’s fine,” Rob said, swooping in to fill the silence. “Daddy’s right here, and he’s real.”

“But he wasn’t,” Eddie protested. “He wasn’t real. He was someone else _pretending to be_ Daddy.”

Rob shot Theon a concerned look. “It was just a dream, sweetie,” he said. “Why don’t you get under the covers with us?”

Eddie finally relented and they all snuggled back in for a few hours of sleep, Eddie still curled tightly in Theon’s arms. Within minutes, both he and Rob had fallen asleep, their breaths evening out. Theon lay awake, watching the both of them. Wondering what Eddie had meant.

_You weren’t real._


	2. Mr. Lovejoy, You Don't Look So Well

Working together, they managed to wrangle the children for breakfast and then usher them to their respective cars for school. Rob took Laura—today carrying her project for Fire Safety Week, clutching it tightly to her chest as if to protect it. Theon took Eddie, who went to a posh children’s daycare downtown. Laura attended the most prestigious private elementary school in the city. Only the best.

Rob thought it was silly and pointed out that Theon was a product of the public school system, to which Theon responded, “Exactly.” In any case, they could afford it. Business was good, and he wanted his children to always have the best. Rob said it was surprising but cute the way Theon had slipped into the role of overprotective father.

They had adopted Laura as an older child, a toddler. The adoption agency had had trouble placing her because of her Down’s syndrome, but she was a sweet and happy child, and they’d both fallen in love with her right away. Eddie was a different story, a miracle in his own right. Their intense little boy born with his surrogate mother’s dark eyes and his biological father’s flaming hair.

He sat in his car seat in the back, idly playing with his action figures, little army men from some show he watched religiously on Saturday mornings.

“Hey, bud.” Theon watched his son from the rearview mirror. “Remember this morning when you came into Papa and my’s room? You remember the bad dream you had?”

Eddie continued whacking his toys against the side of his car seat. “Not really.”

“Do you remember when you said you dreamt I wasn’t real? What did you mean by that?”

Eddie shrugged his little shoulders. “I dunno.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I dunno,” he repeated. “You should go see Grandma, though.”

That caught Theon a little off-guard. “Grandma Cat lives in England, bud, remember? All the way across the ocean. Remember when we were there last summer?” Though with the way Cat had doted on the children, he suspected they were eager to go back.

Eddie shook his head. “No. Not Grandma Cat. Grandma ‘Lanis.”

Theon slammed on the brakes, having nearly shot right through a red light. He turned and looked at his son, who seemed completely unaware that he’d said anything unusual. “Where’d you hear that name?”

Maybe he’d heard him and Rob talking about it. They’d discussed bringing the children to see Theon’s mother, but Theon thought her behavior would be highly upsetting for young children. She’d been in an institution since before either of them were born, so there was no way Eddie could have met his Grandma Alanis. Was there?

“Bud, where’d you hear that name?”

Eddie shrugged. “I dunno.”

The light turned green and Theon eased out into the intersection. Maybe he should give his mother a call. He hadn’t spoken to her in a few weeks. In any case, Eddie refused to say anymore. He’d always been a mysterious kid, keeping mostly to himself, unlike Laura, who had no trouble making friends at school. The daycare workers said he was polite and well-behaved, but getting him to talk was like pulling teeth.

Theon dropped Eddie off at daycare then headed for work, distracted. He ran on autopilot as he pulled into his reserved parking spot at Lovejoy Yachts. His secretary’s usual chipper greeting went barely recognized, but he did manage a smile and a, “Good morning, Jane,” before slipping into his office. He sat at his desk, checked his emails, answered the ones he could muster the concentration to focus on, and then went to get himself the strongest cup of coffee possible. There were important clients coming in for a face-to-face consult. He needed to be on his A-game.

The coffee did the trick. Eddie’s ominous words became the jumbled babbling of a typical four-year-old. The faint memory of his own dream wafted away like smoke on the wind. By the time ten o’clock rolled around, he was ready to sell some luxury yachts.

 

***

 

“Lovejoy Industries has unrivalled access to some of the most desirable yachts under construction on the market today.” Theon had given this pitch a million times. These days, he usually delegated to his employees, but every so often, when there was a particularly big client, he would still see to the meetings himself. “We pride ourselves in providing short lead times and flexible layouts to turn your build dream into reality.”

He gave his clients his trademark smile. Sitting across the table, they looked pleased, so he continued.

 “We offer a wraparound service in every aspect of design and build, from conception to delivery, working with the—”

There was a loud popping in his ears.

He must have reacted, because one of his clients asked, “Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes.” He shook his head. “Just my tinnitus acting up.”

Except the noise in his ears wasn’t ringing. It sounded more like…voices. Too faint to make out what they were saying, exactly, but they seemed to be…yelling. Screaming.

He looked around the room. “You don’t hear anything?”

The clients looked at each other. “Hear what?” the lead client asked. She was a striking woman, with hair so blonde it was almost white. Her name was Danielle Tarr-Gardner, an up-and-comer in the business world. Theon very much wanted her business.

He shook his head and slapped his ear, as if trying to get water out. The sounds persisted but were faint enough that they seemed to be coming from inside his head.

_Inside his head._

“I apologize,” he said, moving along quickly. “Where were we? Ah, yes, construction. Whether you want to start a build project with semi-custom hulls and superstructures ready for your personal layout preferences or fully custom designs—”

_The sound of horses’ hooves thundering._

“—we’ll put a project manager on your case—”

_The barking of dogs._

“—we hire liaisons to work with third-party contractors—”

_The spiteful laughing of men._

“—all over the globe, from Hong Kong to Italy to Westeros—”

“Westeros?” Ms. Gardener said, frowning in confusion.

Westeros? Had he said Westeros? Where had that come from? “W-western Europe, I meant,” he corrected himself.

“Mr. Lovejoy, you don’t look so well,” one of Ms. Gardener’s aides said.

“I…” He put a hand to his forehead and realized he was dripping with sweat. “I’m fine. It’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it? I’ll have my secretary turn on the air conditioning.”

As he slipped out of the room, nominally to get Jane to crank the air in his office, he briefly considered getting Dagmar to take over the meeting for him. Dagmar was his partner and an extremely competent businessman in his own right, so Ms. Gardener probably wouldn’t be too offended.

He quickly dismissed the notion though. He was fine, really. He just needed to focus more. And he needed to keep these thoughts out of his mind—the thoughts about how his mother had started hearing voices in her head too.


	3. You Always Do That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mildly graphic sexual content, as adult sexytimes resume.

Rob was reading when Theon got home. He looked so cute, sitting in their stylish art-deco armchair, reading glasses perched on his nose, that Theon found himself wholly unable to resist. He came up from behind, threw his arms around his husband’s shoulders, and pressed his nose into the mass of red curls. He breathed deeply, appreciated the familiar smell of Rob’s shampoo and aftershave, even as Rob sputtered, “Do you _mind_?”

“No, no I don’t.” Theon kissed his ear. “Do you? I don’t have morning breath now.”

Rob sighed and set his book down. “If I’d known you were going to be in one of those moods, I would have put on something more appropriate.”

Theon slid over the armrest and draped himself there. “I think the sexy librarian look is _very_ appropriate.”

Rob smirked at that and pulled Theon into his lap. “Well, Laura is at a friend’s house and Eddie’s at his art lessons. I suppose we have a little time to ourselves.” He pulled Theon in for a kiss that made everything from this morning seem like needless worrying. Too bad Rob had to ruin it by asking, “How was your day?”

“Fine.” Theon kissed him again to shut him up then began hiking up his “sexy librarian” sweater vest. He hadn’t been lying. The nerdy, goody-two-shoes look just _did_ it for him. But only when it was Rob. “Let’s not talk about work. Unless you want to talk about your work cases while I do _this_.” He snapped open the button of Rob’s khakis and slid the zipper down.

Rob smiled back. “Rough day?”

Theon didn’t dignify that with a response beyond slipping his hand under the waistband of Rob’s briefs. Rob moaned and bucked upwards with his hips. He so quickly went from dapper, put-together public defender to a whiny, panting mess. Theon loved it. And him. He leaned in to capture Rob’s lips again.

“You always do that,” Rob laughed.

“Do what?” Theon gripped Rob’s length and gave a few gentle strokes. They weren’t the eager teenagers they’d once been, fumbling with their hands and mouths in the back of a 1991 Honda Civic, but Rob still responded to him.

“That!” Rob cried. “You like to change the conversation by distracting me.”

“I’m good at distracting you.” He gave a quicker pump to accentuate his point.

Rob gave a low, throaty moan. “Yeah, yeah you are,” he agreed. “You did this same thing last week when I tried to bring up your birthday party. We still haven’t made any plans.”

“I told you, I don’t want a birthday party.” He quickened the pace of his hand. “No parties, no presents. I’ve got everything I need right here.” He bent to land a kiss on Rob’s throat, then changed his mind and bit gently, sucking.

“Ah!” Rob squealed. “No hickeys.”

“No party.”

“Fine, fine. You win.” His eyes rolled back in his head. “God, don’t stop. That’s perfect.”

“What kind of heartless monster do you think I am?” Theon teased.

“Will you, _ughn_ , at least let me bake you a cake?”

Theon sighed. “If it makes you happy.” If it made Rob happy, he’d do it, whatever it was. The smile it earned made it worth the small concession, even though he really, really would rather just ignore his birthday altogether.

“There might be a present too.”

“No presents.”

“The kids wanted to get you something.”

“That’s different.”

“Mm, and what if _I_ want to do something for you too?” Rob gripped Theon’s hips. “Would you say no to that thing you like? With tongue and everything?”

“Now who’s being the manipulative one?” Theon nipped at Rob’s throat. “You’re lucky you’re so cute. Okay, fine. But if you bring up my age, I’m not going to touch you like this—” He gave a squeeze to Rob’s erection. “—for a long, long time. Got it?”

Rob released with a growl. Like clockwork. Theon held him tightly in hand as he rode it out.

“Got it,” Rob agreed, sinking back into the armchair.

Theon pulled his hand out, now sticky with cum, and used his tongue to clean it off.

Rob watched him with heavily lidded eyes. “Are you really that worried about turning thirty-two? It’s not _that_ old.”

Theon shot him a dirty look.

“Or are you just worried because it’s the same age your mother was diagno—?”

Theon stood and wiped the remainder of the mess off on Rob’s sweater. “I’m going to get dinner started.”

Rob tried to follow him as he went for the kitchen. “Theon, wait, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—do you want me to take care of you?”

“No. No, I’m fine.” He paused at the threshold of the kitchen. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing and the stainless steel appliances were too goddamn _shiny_. “No, I’m not fine. I have a headache. I’m going to go lie down.”

He slammed and locked the bedroom door behind him. The ringing in his ears sounded a lot like screaming.


	4. You're Not Theon

_He dreamt that someone was pulling out his fingernails. He thrashed and screamed and asked, “What do you want? Why are you doing this?” It was so vivid, the sensation of his nails being pried from their beds, the red hot pain as nerve endings were exposed._

_Right in his ear, a man was whispering. So quiet, and yet it cut through his screaming. “Who are you?”_

_“I-I’m Theon Greyjoy—”_

_The man’s knife slid under his thumbnail and he screamed anew._

_“Who are you?”_

_“Please! Stop!”_

_“Answer the question!”_

_“Th-Theon Gr—”_

_The knife dug in deeper. “No.”_

_“Reek!” he screamed. “I’m Reek! Reek! It rhymes with shriek!”_

_“Again. What’s your name?”_

“Theon!”

Theon’s fist hit something hard. His eyes flew open.

He was already sitting up, having pushed the pillows against the headboard. It felt like he was sitting in a pool of water. That was the first thing he realized, and for a brief moment he was sure he had wet himself. No, when he caught his bearings, he realized it was sweat. And that Rob was there next to him, a bright red mark across his face.

“Did I…?” Did he need to ask? Of course he’d done that. He sat up and took Rob’s face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Theon, it’s alright. You didn’t mean to hit me.”

“No, never. I would never hurt you, Rob.”

“I know.” Rob pried him off. “I shouldn’t have woken you up so suddenly. It’s just…you were screaming and kicking.”

Theon’s limbs were shaking. The dream lingered. He could still feel the pain in his fingertips, dull now. “I was having a nightmare,” he admitted.

Rob drew his brows together in concern. “Again? Maybe you should see the doctor.”

Theon shook his head. “No, that’s no necessary.” He laughed weakly. “I’m really sorry I hit you.”

Rob waved him off. “What was your nightmare about?”

“I don’t remember.”

“You screamed, ‘Reek.’”

Theon laughed, gaining more confidence. “Did I?” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Well, I certainly reek covered with all this sweat.”

“Don’t joke. I’m worried about you.” Rob sat up too. Apparently it was close enough to their alarm going off. No sense in trying to go back to sleep, not that Theon wanted to. “This is the second night in the row I’ve had to wake you up from a nightmare.” His face hardened with resolve. “I’m going to make an appointment for you with a sleep specialist.”

“Jesus Christ.” Theon rolled his eyes as he went into the bathroom. “It’s just a nightmare, Rob. I used to have them all the time when I was a kid.” He started the shower. “I think I’m going to see my mother today.” He’d been thinking about it since yesterday. How he really hadn’t been in to see her in weeks.

The water heated and steam began to fog the bathroom mirror. He was relieved when he heard the closet door slide open. It meant Rob was getting dressed, which meant he wasn’t going to join Theon for his shower. Normally Theon wouldn’t mind. Today, he wanted space. He wanted to wash the sweat from his body. He wanted to feel the water on his skin and know that this was real life.

As he worked the shampoo through his hair, his fingernails continued to ache.

 

***

 

Alanis Lovejoy had been born old. Theon couldn’t ever remember her looking young, not even when he was a child. Couldn’t even imagine her as a young woman. At sixty-five, her hair was already so fine and thin that you could see the shape of her head underneath. She was brushing her doll’s hair when he came in. Brushing and talking.

She didn’t look up when Theon knelt and kissed the top of her head. “You’re late,” she said, “and I was watching the news this morning. The man with the war history said the government’s insurance is running low.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Theon said. He was well-practiced at conversing with her, even when she wasn’t making any sense.

She set the brush in her lap and glared at the back of her doll’s head. “It’s not…four-by-four.” Her brows drew together in frustration. “Four-by-four-by-four-by-four-by—”

Theon put his hand over hers. Small and skeletal. “It’s alright, Mother.”

She blinked and looked up at him. A moment of clarity passed behind her eyes. “Theon?”

“It’s me, Mother.”

Tears started welling up. “They took you away.”

“No, Mother, I’m here.” He moved his hand to her shoulder and gave it a gentle—so gentle—squeeze. “I came to visit you.”

“I tried to find you, but the men in the coats…they won’t let me leave. They lock the doors at night. They beat me with their night sticks.”

Theon smiled sympathetically. He’d been extremely alarmed when she’d told him this the first time, that the orderlies were beating her. He’d confronted the nurses. But there were no bruises, no broken bones or signs of any maltreatment. Not even any bedsores, as the nurses came by to flip patients over at regular intervals. It truly was another one of his mother’s delusions, along with the government bugging her room and sending microwaves into her brain.

Her claw-like hand gripped at the front of his shirt. “You’re here to take me away.” Her eyes went wide with hope.

“I’m sorry, Mother. You know I can’t.”

“Why not?” Her grip grew tighter. “Why not? I don’t want to _be_ here anymore.”

“Have you had breakfast?” he said to distract her.

She blinked. “Breakfast,” she repeated. “I had a cookie, but the woman stole it.”

“The woman?”

“Who wears the pink uniform.”

“Cathy?” Theon asked. “Mom, Cathy’s your nurse. You know Cathy. She wouldn’t steal your cookie.”

“She did! She wants me to die.”

Theon sighed. “Do you want to go for a walk, Mother?”

She nodded and let the conversation drop.

Theon wrestled her slippers on and set her feet into her wheelchair’s footrests. She was feeling especially cooperative today, keeping her hand off the brake, letting him steer her through the hallways and into the elevator. She held her doll on her lap.

“Have Marin and Rodrick been by to see you lately?” he asked as the elevator opened on the ground floor.

She didn’t answer.

“I know Ashley has. She told me she was here last week and that the two of you had lunch together in the cafeteria.”

“She works in pharmaceuticals.”

“No, Mom. Ashley, your daughter. She’s in the Navy, remember? She was promoted to chief petty officer last fall.”

“Last fall,” Alanis repeated. “Fall, falling, felling, fell down, fall.”

“Yep, that’s right.”

She looked up at him over her shoulder as they strolled into the gardens. “They were saying, in the newspaper today, that the Navy has electronics. They’ve already replaced the President. Four-by-four-by-four…”

The gardens were pretty impressive for what they were. Some of the higher-functioning patients took care of the flowers, watering and weeding when the weather was good. A professional landscaper took care of the fountain and koi. Theon parked his mother’s wheelchair under the white gazebo and angled it so she could see the birdbath. He sat on a bench next to her and held her hand while she talked.

“They asked me why I named you Theon,” she said. “I said, ‘I always liked the name Theodore.’ They said they’d never met a Theodore who went by Theon.”

Theon was used to people asking about his name. In truth, he couldn’t remember how he’d picked up the nickname. Nobody had ever called him Theodore or Ted or any variation thereof, thank God. He’d always just been…Theon.

“I think they made a mistake,” Alanis went on. “When you were born, the paperwork…the man who…the doctor…” She trailed off. Was silent for a moment. Then swung her head around, her eyes suddenly wide as they locked onto him. “What did you do with him?”

“With who?” Theon asked idly.

“With Theon!” She grabbed at him. “What did you do with him!?”

Theon was startled by her outburst. “Mother, it’s me. _I’m_ Theon. I’m right here.”

“No!” She launched herself out of the chair, clawing at him. “You’re not! You’re not my baby! Where is he? What did you do with him?”

“Mother, please…” He grabbed her wrists. Her bones were so brittle, he didn’t dare use any force, but she was trying to strangle him now. She hadn’t tried to attack him since he was eight years old, when she’d chased him around the house with a pair of scissors.

“You’re not Theon!” she shrieked. “Who are you? You don’t belong here. You-you’re wearing his face. Where did you get my baby’s face? You killed him!”

 Luckily, he didn’t have to wrestle with her for too long, as her screaming quickly drew the attention of the nurses. Two orderlies came running. A third one pulled Theon aside as they tried to get Alanis back into her wheelchair. “You don’t need to be here for this.”

Theon nodded numbly. He allowed the orderly to lead him away, all while his mother screamed, “That’s not Theon! He’s an imposter! He’s a murderer! A child murderer!”


	5. You Know I’m Just Looking Out for You

He was still pretty shaken when he went to pick Laura up after school. He drove on autopilot, braking when his conscious mind saw a red light or stop sign but otherwise not entirely there. He pulled into the school parking lot and waited for classes to let out. He had about five minutes, so he rolled the window down and leaned back against the headrest.

The sounds of the playground drifted on a light breeze. Laughing. Rubber balls bouncing on asphalt. Children screaming.

_An image came to him, unbidden. Two children, the same ages as Eddie and Laura, laid out on the dirt, unmoving. Dead. But not long. Flies buzzed inquisitively, and a voice asked, “Was it quick?” A voice answered back, “What do you care?” The first voice—was it his own? Why would it be his own?—said, “They’ll never pass. Have them burnt and tarred and put their heads on pikes.”_

Something tapped on the car window. Theon bolted awake. His stomach still roiled with the images, so vivid and real. Where had they come from?

“Daddy!”

He looked over to see Laura smiling at him with her gap-toothed grin. One of her front teeth had been the latest casualty of lost baby teeth. She pulled the car door opened and awkwardly hopped in.

“On no you don’t, missy,” Theon said. “Get your butt in the back seat.”

“But I’m big. I can ride up here with you.”

“Yeah, you’re big,” he said with an exaggerated groan as he lifted her up. She giggled. “But you still have to sit in the back. You could get hurt up front, and what do you think I’d do if something ever happened to you? Hmm?”

“Can’t you just drive careful?” she sulked, but she allowed him to carry her to the backseat and buckle her in. “I trust you, Daddy.”

Theon remembered how he’d been distracted driving here, not really watching the road. He’d gotten here fine, but what if he’d needed to react quickly? What if he had accidentally run a red light and been sideswiped by an oncoming vehicle? “I’m glad you trust me, honey,” he said, “but there are lots of other drivers on the road. It’s better to be safe than sorry, don’t you think?”

“Like they taught us for Fire Safety Week?”

“Yep, exactly like that.” He checked the belt again to make sure it was tight. “You know I’m just looking out for you, right, kiddo?”

“I know.” She leaned over as best she could with the seatbelt holding her in and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Love you, Daddy.”

 

***

 

On the nights Rob worked late, Theon liked to order out and watch a movie at home with the kids. They always looked forward to these nights, especially if pizza was involved. They were watching _Frozen_ for the three hundred forty-second time (by Theon’s counting, at least) when they heard the telltale beep of Rob’s car out in the driveway. The children were at the door in an instant, mercifully saving Theon from another singalong to “Let It Go.”

Rob opened the door and dropped the briefcase as the children shot into his arms. “Papa!” Laura squealed. “Daddy let us get the cheese-stuffed crust from Pizza Hut!”

“Oh, did he?”

“We saved you a piece.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, just clutched onto his papa and held tight, even when Rob tried to make his way into the living room. “Hey, bud, you gonna let me walk or what?”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m not going to let Daddy hurt you.”

Rob looked up at Theon in surprise. For a second, just a split second, a look of uncertainty and fear crossed over his face. Then it was gone as he rubbed at his face where Theon had struck him during his sleep. The redness was gone. “Are you talking about what happened this morning?” He pulled Eddie into his arms, and the child allowed it. “That was an accident, sweetie. Daddy didn’t mean to hit me, and he apologized. Just like when Laura smacked you on the back of the head with her coloring book.”

Eddie shook his head again and put his small arms around Rob’s neck. “No, when he chopped your head off.”

“What?” Rob laughed. He sat down in his favorite armchair, Eddie on his lap. Theon watched them from the couch. “Chopped my head off?”

“The man in the courtyard,” Eddie said. “And then the little boys. And you were sad. And then they chopped your head off too. And Daddy was sad.”

Rob frowned and put a hand to Eddie’s forehead. “Sweetie, are you feeling alright? You’re not making any sense.” He looked to Theon, who just shrugged.

“The little boys,” Eddie repeated, growing frustrated that he wasn’t making himself understood. He squirmed and fidgeted with his hands. “Daddy said that Reek should kill them. So he did.”

Theon felt the pit of his stomach give out.

“What?” Rob repeated.

“Reek,” Eddie said. “It rhymes with shriek.”

Theon jumped up, nearly knocking Laura over in the process, and ran for the bathroom. He emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, again and again, unable to even draw a breath.


	6. Don't Ever Scare Me Like That Again

He was burning hot. His mind was like a nest of angry hornets, thoughts buzzing and stinging.

_“Your brothers are dead. Rodrik fell in battle, and a wall feel on Maron.”_

No, that wasn’t true. Rodrick had joined the Special Forces and Marin ran his own construction business. They were both alive. Theon had seen them last Thanksgiving. Marin was trying his hardest to kick his alcohol habit to the curb, mainly for the sake of his wife and children.

_“Your father has agreed to it. You’re to go live with the Starks, as their hostage. Do you know what that means? It means that if your father ever tries something like this again, it will be your head on the chopping block, boy.”_

No, that wasn’t how he’d met the Starks. He’d met Rob junior year of high school, pined for him for five months, gotten up the nerve to ask him to prom. But Rob had asked him first. The only time Mr. Stark had ever threatened to kill him was when Theon had proposed to Rob. “I swear, Lovejoy, if you hurt my son, break his heart, I have a plot of land in the woods that would make the perfect final resting place for you.” And after that he’d clapped Theon on the shoulder and everyone had celebrated with a toast, even Mrs. Stark, who was fairly traditionalist in her views. All of them—Jon, Sandra, Aria, Bran, Richie—had welcomed him into their family as a new brother.

And his father… Blaine Lovejoy may not have been the most demonstrative father, but he’d done his best. He’d raised both Theon and Ashely after their mother was finally institutionalized. He’d even helped Theon pay for his first year of college, covering what the scholarship didn’t. He sent the children gift cards for Christmas and their birthdays.

_“Why did you do it? Why did you betray Rob Stark?”_

Never. He’d never had an unfaithful thought in his head. He’d known since the moment he met him that he loved Rob Stark and would never hurt him. Hell, if he _did_ hurt him, he would follow Ned Stark out into the woods and _allow_ the man to bury him in a shallow grave.

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Theon Greyjoy.”_

Theon Lovejoy.

Theodore Allan Lovejoy.

_“What’s your name?”_

_Reek._

***

 

_He was cold, so cold. Lying on hard stone. Bits of straw digging through his parchment-thin clothing. He could feel things crawling on him—rats, fleas, lice. He hadn’t eaten in…how long had he been here? He lay on his stomach, because his back was in ribbons. He thought he’d been the Starks’ whipping boy; he wished he’d never thought that._

_A halo of light fell over him. He didn’t have the will to open his eyes, let alone lift his head._

_“So, that’s what’s left of Theon Greyjoy,” a voice said. “The most hated man in Westeros.”_

“Theon, oh thank God.”

Theon blinked blearily. Rob was standing over him.

“Looks like your fever finally broke. How are you feeling?”

“I…” His tongue felt brittle in his mouth. “Water?”

Rob placed a cup to his mouth and tilted a bit of water in. It burned coldly all the way down to his stomach.

“I called the Pizza Hut to let them know what happened,” Rob said with disgust. “Luckily, Laura hasn’t come down with whatever you and Eddie caught, but I’m keeping her home from school just in case.”

“Eddie…?”

“Sandra’s looking after him,” Rob said. “I didn’t know if I could look after both of you, and she agreed to come over and help. They’re both at home. I called about half an hour ago, and Sandra says he still hasn’t shown any signs beyond a mild fever. You on the other hand…”

Theon blinked.

“We’re at the hospital now,” Rob explained.

Theon could have guessed that himself if he’d taken even just a second to look around—the reclining bed, the pale green curtains, the beeping of a monitor somewhere far away. Or, hell, he could have just felt there was an IV in the crook of his elbow. “What happened?”

“You passed out in the bathroom. The doctors were able to get your temperature down and rehydrate you, but they’ll probably have to run some more tests.” Rob brushed Theon’s sweaty hair out of his face and gazed at him with a look of infinite love. “How are you feeling? How’s your stomach?”

“F…fine,” Theon managed. His stomach had never been the problem. It wasn’t food poisoning, he knew that instinctively. What it was…he couldn’t say. His skin was prickling, and his thoughts wouldn’t quiet down. A panic attack? A nervous breakdown? “Really, I’m feeling fine. Could you maybe get a doctor in here so we would go home?”

Rob frowned. “I know you don’t like being down, but this isn’t something to just blow off.”

“I’m fine, really.” Theon struggled into a sitting position. “I just…I’ve been working hard and not sleeping well. I think I just kind of passed out due to…exhaustion, y’know?” He smiled. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll set up an appointment with my physician later this week, but right now…” He grunted as the tape holding the IV pulled on his skin. “I really, really just want to go home and sleep in my own bed. For a few days, if possible.”

 

***

 

The doctors discharged him two hours later with a ream of papers on what to do if his symptoms came back. Rob drove. He was always such a careful driver, breaking for yellow lights, using his turn signal even when he was the only car on the road. It was close to one o’clock in the morning when they pulled into the driveway of their modern ranch-style house. The children’s bedroom windows were dark, but the living room was lit up, blazing light through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Rob’s sister Sandra greeted them at the door and helped steer Theon to the bedroom. “Sorry to be such a bother,” Theon said. She was a schoolteacher, and being up this late couldn’t be good for someone who had to be in to work five hours from now.

Sandra waved him away. “Nonsense. I know you’d do the same for me.”

He smiled weakly at that. Yes, of course he would. If she ever came to him for help, of course he’d be there for her. In fact, that was how he’d ended up with his current secretary. Sandra had come to him saying that her friend had been laid off, through no fault of her own, and if he could possibly find a position for her at his company… Three years later, and Jane was still with him, the most reliable secretary he’d ever had.

She and Rob tucked him into bed, and Rob saw Sandra out with a, “Thanks so much for coming on such short notice.” Once she was gone, he came to sit at the edge of the bed. “Do you need anything?”

“I think I just need to sleep. You should go check on the kids.”

Rob nodded, but before he went, he placed a cool hand on Theon’s cheek. “Don’t ever scare me like that again. Okay?”


	7. You Might Be Having Past Life Regression

Rob called in sick for him the next day, though Theon was feeling much better. Well, better in body, at least. He ate ravenously when Rob brought him breakfast in bed, and his temperature had gone back to normal. The prickling in his skin still persisted, though. He felt fidgety, unable to get comfortable. Malaise, he decided. The general sense of just being…unwell.

He had Rob bring his laptop in, promising not to do any work. Instead, he went to a health forum, the one he regularly used to discuss issues that came up with his mother. He logged into his account, YachtsPerHour, and started a new thread: “Help! I think I’m losing my mind!”

_“Help! I think I’m losing my mind! The last few days, I’ve had this general sense of malaise, just not feeling quite like myself. Bad dreams. Weird thoughts. Sometimes it feels like I’m not really me at all, just watching myself as I go through my daily routine. I’m having a hard time concentrating, and I sometimes can’t remember if something actually happened or if I just dreamed it. I have a hard time remembering who I am or even what the month or year is. I keep getting flashes of places I’m sure I’ve never been and things I’ve never done._

_“For instance, I was born and raised in California. I’ve never lived in the country or ridden a horse. But during these flashes, I’m sometimes riding a horse. I’m also sometimes fighting with people, like, with a sword. I smell smoke a lot. I think it might be medieval Europe. I travel to Europe a lot (for work, and my in-laws live in England), but none of the stuff in these flashes seems to be from places I’ve visited. I don’t know. Maybe it’s déjà vu?_

_“I’m 32, don’t do drugs, don’t take any medications beyond Advil, drink only in social settings. I’m very fit, physically. My health has always been very good. Schizophrenia does run in the family, though I’ve never personally had problems._

_“Thoughts?”_

Within half an hour, he had several replies. Someone suggested he was having a depersonalization event. Someone else said it sounded like normal anxiety and that he should maybe talk to a psychiatrist about being put on beta blockers. Several other people said they’d had similar experiences and listed various things they’d done to deal with it.

One comment in particular caught his attention, and he almost missed it because it had been down-voted to the bottom.

_“Sounds like you might be having past life regression. Perhaps mistakes from a previous existence are coming back to you through your subconscious. I’m a medium and I’ve helped hundreds of people cope with issues in their past lives.”_

Past lives? That was, like, a Buddhist thing, right? Or maybe Hindu? The Lovejoy house had never been particularly spiritual. Alanis was non-practicing Jewish, and Blaine was about as atheist as you could get. Theon had never really given much thought to the existence of an afterlife or deity, and certainly he’d never held much stock in anything New Age.

He pulled up a new tab and did a cursory glance on Wikipedia. Turned out they had a whole article on past life regression. It didn’t sound quite right, but at the same time, it didn’t sound quite wrong either. These strange thoughts that kept appearing his head…memories that weren’t his own…

He heard the front door close a split second before Rob called, “I’m back! I got chicken soup!” Theon slammed the laptop closed. He didn’t want his husband to see what he’d been posting, in case he insisted they go back to the emergency room. Or worse, suggest Theon get a psychological evaluation.

Rob came into the bedroom, his face red and his hair windswept. He’d gone to drop the kids off an hour ago—Laura tried to get a day off of school by pretending to be sick, whereas Eddie had asserted he had never been sick in the first place. Poor Rob, having to deal with the both of them all by himself. He had probably stopped to get himself a nice, strong coffee on the way home.

“Everything okay here?” he asked.

“Fine and dandy.”

“Think your stomach can handle some chicken soup?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

As soon as Rob left to prepare lunch, Theon pulled his laptop out, opened a new tab, and hesitated a moment before typing “past life regression” into Google. Lots of ads for hypnosis and psychotherapy, which freaked him out enough that he clicked away. Was…was this a legitimate thing? Or was it like those anti-vaccination emails he got from Laura’s friends’ parents in his inbox every so often?

He clicked back to the health forum and hit reply to the down-voted message.

_“That’s...an interesting idea. But they’re not really ‘past life’ memories. I’m still myself, and everyone I know is there, just different.”_

He wondered if that would elicit even more New Age advice.

He heard Rob coming back down the hall. With not much time, he added to his message, _“Just curious, does ‘Westeros’ mean anything to you?’”_ Before closing his laptop again and vowing to forget about it for the time being.

 

***

 

Theon slept and dreamed.

He dreamt he was someone named Theon Greyjoy. Then he dreamed he was someone named Reek. He dreamed that winter lasted a whole decade and that years could go by without seeing the sun. He dreamed that he had never seen a car or a computer or an electric lightbulb. He dreamed that magic wasn’t real, but dragons had been, a long time ago.


	8. Is There Some Wrong You Need to Right?

Theon had lost his virginity to Rob two months after they’d started dating. There was nothing special about the date in question; they’d been making out on Rob’s bed after school, and one thing had led to another. It had been hilariously awkward and just generally uncomfortable, and yet for all of that, it remained one of Theon’s fondest memories.

_Theon had lost his virginity to a whore in Winter Town when he was thirteen. He paid her one silver piece, and she’d patiently shown him what went where. He’d liked the feeling of her, the feeling of something other than his own hand enveloped so tightly around his cock, but more than that, he’d like the feeling of her under him. He liked the feeling that his cock had some sort of power he could use. He’d never had any sort of power before._

Theon had an uncle named Yuri, who smoked weed every day and toured the country with his indie bluegrass band. He rode a motorcycle and played the banjo. Theon wasn’t afraid of him.

_Theon had an uncle named Euron, who drank shade of the evening and reaved his way across the known globe. He captained the ship Silence and wore a patch over his cursed eye. Theon was terrified of him._

The worst thing Theon had ever done was hit someone’s dog with his car. He remembered the look on the woman’s face when he’d gone to her door and informed her about what had happened. She’d had a toddler who’d broken down sobbing when he saw what had happened to his best friend. The worst thing Theon had ever done intentionally was throw a cinderblock through a car window because the car’s owner had called him a faggot. The thing with the dog was much, much worse, in his opinion.

_The worst thing Theon had ever done was get his best friend killed. The worst thing he’d ever done intentionally was murder two completely innocent children. He didn’t know which of those was worse._

 

***

 

There was a reply waiting for him next time he checked the health forum, which wasn’t until much later in the afternoon when Rob left to go pick the kids up.

_“No, I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of it._

_“It sounds like you’re channeling some other plane of existence. You say the people in your life are also in your memories. Do they also play the same roles—your mother, father, lover, etc.? It could be a case of soul groups, where a cluster of souls will be reincarnated together in the next life. But, more likely, it could be your subconscious channeling your soul’s path from past existences by creating archetypes from your current relationships._

_“We, all of us, have our own recurring issues we must deal with in each life. For me, personally, I’ve had to deal with betrayal, and all of my past lives have revolved around this theme in some fashion or another. Look to the archetypes your ‘flashes’ are giving you. Is there a common theme? Is there some sort of wrong you need to right? Some sort of flaw you must overcome? Visit an accredited medium to help you on this path, and soon your aura will clear._

_“Good luck, friend!”_

Theon was dumbfounded, mostly because he hardly understood a word of what this faceless nutcase had just vomited at him.

His subconscious was creating these memories? Wasn’t that the same thing as being crazy? Was it possible to create an entirely fictional life out of nothing? These memories were too lifelike, too flesh-like to be mere figments of his imagination. Right? When they came back to him, he remembered them just as clearly as his real memories.

He remembered learning to shoot arrows just as well as he remembered his first job at a yacht club when he was a teen.

He remembered messily chopping off a man’s head just as well as he remembered his son’s birth.

He remembered every torture he’d endured at the hands of Ramsay Snow just as well as he remembered every passionate bout of lovemaking with Rob Stark—both tended to run together after a while.

Was it possible none of it was real? And if so…

If so, which life was real and which was the fake?


	9. Why Are You So Upset?

He tried not to let Rob know, but things were getting worse. New memories were coming back every day.

He had a brilliant plan to see if these memories were mirroring the various facets of what he had come to term his “waking life,” and in what direction. Was “dreaming life” a mirror of “waking life?” Or was it the other way around?

He bought a puppy. A husky-malamute mix. He did it without telling his family. The kids had been begging for a pet for months. He made sure to show Rob first.

Rob was speechless at first, then angry that Theon had gone behind his back, then finally accepting. How could you stay mad with a tiny sleeping puppy curled up on your lap? “Well, the kids will love him,” he’d relented, and Theon could tell he’d already fallen in love with the bundle of fur.

“What do you think we should name him?” Theon prompted.

“We’ll let the kids decide.”

“But if you had to suggest something to them…?”

“I don’t know.” Rob scratched the puppy’s back. The puppy yawned and cuddled into the warmth of his sexy-librarian sweater. “To me he looks like a…”

Pause to consider.

Theon held his breath.

“Grey Wind.”

There it was. Exactly what he’d been dreading.

“Why would you suggest something like that?” Theon snapped.

Rob looked up in surprise.

“Where would you even get a name like that?” _Why would you name him after your wolf? The wolf you have in my imaginary life?_

Rob’s face went from confused to hurt. “Yeah, it’s not very good.”

“It’s _odd_ ,” Theon said. “Where did it come from?”

“I don’t know. He’s grey.”

“Yeah, real original, Rob.”

“Why are you getting so upset?”

_Because my supposed “real” life is unfolding just like my imaginary one, not the other way around._

“We’ll let the kids decide,” he said, and stormed off.

 

***

 

They ended up naming the puppy Olaf. Even though it was from the cutesy character in _Frozen_ , Theon appreciated it anyway. It was a good Nordic name.

He also appreciated Olaf himself. It gave him something to focus on. Something to keep his mind off of things.

When the puppy was playful or sleepy, the kids got to have him, play with him or hold him on their laps. They loved their new little family member. But when he shat or pissed in the house, when he chewed on the furniture, when he whined in the early hours of the morning, Theon was the one taking care of him then.

In truth, he didn’t mind. He liked the physicality of it, cleaning up after the puppy, taking him for walks, getting up early to let him out. It kept him grounded. It made everything around him feel real.

His job didn’t make him feel real. Every time he came in and saw Jane at the front desk, his mind was filled with images of her in a wedding dress, her brown eyes red-rimmed from crying. He shut himself up in his office, but he still had to deal with clients with names that weren’t _quite_ right—Tiberius Lancaster, Marjorie Terrell, Robert Banner.

Even Rob didn’t make him feel real. When they pawed at each other under the covers at night, all he could think about was when he’d learned Robb Stark had been murdered. _“They cut his head off and sewed his wolf’s on. They paraded his body around for everyone to see.”_ He hadn’t let Rob touch him in three days.

Rob didn’t say anything when Theon said he was too tired to do anything tonight, and anyway the dog was watching and it was weird. Maybe he thought Theon wasn’t fully recovered from “food poisoning,” or maybe he thought Theon just wanted to wait for his birthday. Whichever the case, Rob didn’t pester him. Which would have been a first anyway. Rob had a fairly high sex drive, but Theon had always been the initiator.

_Theon had had a high sex drive too. He’d bedded dozens of women at Winterfell—whores, servants, peasant women. He’d never been overly concerned about their pleasure, except when it stroked his own ego. Hells, he’d hardly been overly concerned with his own pleasure. It had always been about owning and dominating, asserting control._

Had he always been a control freak? Had he always been such an awful person?

_He’d held the captain’s daughter by the head as he’d finished in her mouth. He’d taken his frustrations out on Kyra when they’d made love. Had they made love? That sounded like something the other Theon would say. No, he’d fucked her. He’d hurt her, and she’d cried. Why had she helped him after that?_

_He’d allowed the murder of hundreds of people, directly and indirectly. He’d condoned Reek killing those two boys. He’d condoned Reek killing the witnesses. He’d allowed the Ironborn to kill, rape, and maim the citizens of Winterfell and Winter Town. He hadn’t condoned that, but he’d_ allowed _it. Just like he_ allowed _the Bolton soldiers to burn Winterfell to the ground. If it weren’t for him, many, many people would not have lost their lives._

_Westeros would have been better off if he’d never been born._

This world would have been better off if he’d never been born.

He didn’t deserve this life. This caring husband, these children, this job. Never mind that he didn’t want a birthday party, he didn’t deserve that either. But he forced himself to smile anyway when he came in from walking Olaf to Rob and the kids screamed, “Happy birthday!” Laura ran up and pulled on his shirt to get him to bend down to her level, and when he was there, she placed a cone-shaped party hat on his head. The elastic string cut into the skin under his chin, but he smiled and thanked her.

As Rob served the cake he’d spent all morning baking, Eddie toddled over with a sheet of construction paper in his hands. “I made this for you in art class,” he said. “Happy birthday, Daddy.”

Theon took the picture and held it out to admire it. “It’s beautiful,” he said, though he didn’t know what it was supposed to be. Just splotches of finger paint on a green background. “Why don’t you tell me about how you made it?”

Eddie hopped up onto the couch with him, little legs dangling. He scooted over and jabbed a finger right in the middle of the picture. “That’s you,” he said, then moved his finger to the next blob, “and that’s Papa and that’s me and that’s Laura. And that’s Olaf, down there.”

“Well, that’s very…lovely.”

To his surprise, Eddie flung his arms around his waist and hugged tight. “I love you, Daddy. _I_ think you’re real.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending this chapter on a cute note to even things out.
> 
> *Sees what's coming next.*
> 
> Okay, we're going to need _a lot_ of cuteness, people!


	10. Come Back to Me Soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, but plenty of new content warnings. We're dealing with Ramsay.

“The kids are asleep,” Rob said, pulling off his shirt. He folded it before putting it in the hamper; he’d always been a little OCD. “Do you want to…you know?”

Theon thought for a moment. Eddie’s hug had done a lot of make him feel better. Their evening of eating cake and watching Theon’s favorite movie, _Water World_ —yeah, he got shit for it all the time, but he genuinely just loved the cheesiness of it—had lightened his mood considerably. “Well,” he said, hands on the zipper of his pants, “I guess I haven’t gotten _your_ birthday present yet, have I?”

Rob broke into a full-toothed grin. “I promise, I won’t even say anything about your age.”

Theon smiled back with his best come-hither look.

Rob hopped onto the bed and bounded into Theon’s lap to kiss him. He could still taste the chocolate cake on Rob’s tongue. Theon welcomed him in, opening his mouth wider and putting his hands on the back of Rob’s head to pull him deeper.

Rob obliged and pushed him back into the pillows. Crawled on top of him. Pinned him.

_“I only hold you down because you squirm like an eel, Reek.”_

Stuck his hand down the front of Theon’s boxers.

_“Are you going to cry every time we do this?”_

Grabbed hold of his dick.

_“What would your girls say now? Your little stub hardly even fits in my hand.”_

Theon sat up and shoved the body on top of him. It went sailing off the bed and landed with a thump on the floor.

Rob’s pained moan brought Theon back. He jumped off the bed and ran to Rob’s side. “Are you alright?” Rob was sprawled on the floor, holding his wrist, which he had apparently thrown out to cushion himself. Theon reached out to touch it, but Rob hissed in pain and jerked away from him. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It…it’s okay,” Rob said through gritted teeth. An obvious lie. He allowed Theon to help him up, though. “What…uh…?”

Theon didn’t have an explanation. “I…panicked.”

“You _panicked_?” Rob sounded incredulous at first, but then his confusion morphed into horror. “Did I _do_ something?”

“No,” Theon said quickly. “No, it wasn’t you. I just…for a second I thought you were someone else.”

That, predictably, didn’t lessen Rob’s concern. “Who did you think I was?”

“I don’t know. Someone else.”

“What does that mean? Like…a hallucination?”

Theon shrugged. “Maybe.”

Rob’s hand was on his forehead in an instant. “Are you sick again? Should I take you to the ER?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine, Theon. You haven’t been fine all week.” He put a firm hand on Theon’s shoulder, as if trying to get him to stop moving so he could look at him. “What’s going _on_ with you?”

Theon didn’t like it. The hand on his shoulder. The accusing voice. He pulled out of Rob’s grasp. Scooted off the bed and pulled the zipper of his pants up.

“Where are you going?” Rob demanded.

“Out for a walk.”

“At this time of night?”

“Yeah. You gonna stop me?”

Rob looked like he wanted to, like he wanted to say something to change his mind. But he didn’t. Instead he said, “Okay, but be safe. And come back to me soon, Theon.”


	11. Do You Honestly Believe That?

Theon walked. He walked and walked. After an hour of walking, he got a text on his cellphone.

_Where r u?_

He ignored that. Over the next hour, he got several more.

_R u ok?_

_Pls respond._

_Im worried._

He ignored those too.

The lights in Ashely’s house were on, as he knew they would be. He didn’t know when she slept, but he was glad of her night owl nature tonight. He walked the steps up to the Victorian veranda and rang the doorbell. Ashely answered, dressed in a tank top and sweatpants. Her hair was wet, and she had a towel slung over her shoulders. She gave him one up-and-down look and said, “Well, come in.”

He sat at her kitchen table while she brewed some tea. “Nothing alcoholic,” he’d said when she’d offered to fix him a drink.

Two steaming mugs in hand, she came to join him. Allowed him to take a few sips. It was black tea, very strong, no sweetener added. Theon blew on it to cool it.

“You and Rob have a fight?”

“Not exactly.” He turned the cup in his hands. It was an ugly floral print, faded with age. He remembered drinking from this exact mug when he was a kid, when his mother used to make hot chocolate on cold days. “I think I might be losing my mind.”

Ashely nodded. She would be concerned, of course, but she had the decency not to furrow her brow. She’d been his rock when Alanis had been diagnosed. She’d been the one to tackle their mother and wrestle the scissors out of her hands when she’d tried to attack him. She’d been the one who explained what schizophrenia was and how Alanis still loved him, she just had a sickness that made her not recognize him sometimes. She’d been the one to give him a pep talk before he went to ask Rob Stark out, and she’d been the one to loan him her suit for the prom—no telling anyone he could fit into his sister’s men’s clothing.

And now, she listened as Theon explained, as best he could, what had been happening these last few days. At no point did she interrupt, though she did snort in amusement when he told her that her Westeros name was Asha.

When he was done, she nodded again. “It doesn’t sound like what happened with Mom,” she said. “But everyone’s different. Do you want to get tested?”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Don’t you think your family has the right to know?”

He stared into his half-empty mug. “I just keep wondering…what if Westeros is my real life, and _this_ is the stuff I made up in my head?”

“Well, I can tell you that _I’m_ real.”

“No offense, but that’s what a figment _would_ say.”

“You think you’re clever enough to have imagined someone like me?” she said, picking up on his teasing tone. She nudged him with her elbow. “No way.”

He smiled back, glad for the easiness that had always existed between them. Just for a moment, though. “In Westeros, we don’t have a good relationship,” he said. “In Westeros, everyone hates me. You and Dad both say I’m weak and stupid. Marin and Rodrick are dead, and they used to beat me when I was little. Rob wants me executed. So what if…what if I created _this_ , all of this? A world where Dad is proud of me, where you and I are best friends and Marin and Rodrick are still alive and I’m married to Rob? What if this is the way I’m coping with my fucked up life?”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Ashely leaned forward. “Do you honestly believe a world with swords and magic and dragons is more feasible than a world with cars and cellphones?  But more importantly, do you think a world where everyone hates you is more feasible than a world where everyone loves you and cares about you?” She put a hand over his, still resting on the sides of his mug. “Because we do, Theon. We care about you. And I know Rob is worried sick right now.”

Theon was silent for a long moment. “Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, you’re right. I should probably go home.”

“Good. I want you to see a doctor first thing in the morning, though. I’ll go with you if you need me to.”

Theon nodded. “Thanks, Ashley.”

She patted his hand. “Any time. Now, I’m going to give you a ride home, and I’m not taking no for an answer. You need to start thinking about your well-being, if not for yourself, then at the very least for all of us who care about you.”


	12. What the Fuck is Wrong with You?

True to his word, Theon made an appointment to see a psychiatrist the next day, though the secretary informed him that unless it was an emergency, the earliest they could fit him in was next Tuesday and that if he felt he needed help sooner, he should call this number, etc., etc. Theon made the appointment and called Ashely to inform her. She said she’d take the afternoon off to go with him, and he allowed it, more for her sake than his. He also told Rob, who nodded solemnly and said it was a good idea.

He called into the office and said he was going to be working from home for a few days and put Dagmar in charge. While Rob was at work and the children were at school, he kept himself busy by running financial reports and watching television in equal measure. At noon he took a break to take Olaf down to the beach. The puppy played in the surf, and afterwards Theon kept himself busy by cleaning the sand from his fur.

He went to pick Laura up at 2:30, when school got off, and dropped her off at her Thursday dance lessons, then went to pick Eddie up at 4:00, when daycare ended. He’d done this hundreds of times before, and it was almost like being back to normal.

Rob got home at 6:00, and while he was cooking dinner, Theon and the kids sat out in the living room, Laura practicing a new dance move, Eddie scribbling in his coloring book, and Theon watching the evening news. Floods, car accidents, school shootings…if this was really Theon’s ideal world, it was certainly a fucked up one.

“What’cha coloring, bud?” Theon asked, leaning over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Castle.”

“Yeah?” Theon continued nervously. “What kind of castle?” He half expected to see an image of Winterfell in flames, but it was just a fairytale castle. Eddie had colored it pink and blue.

“That’s where Snow White lives,” Eddie announced as he picked up a green crayon.

Did Snow White live in a castle? Yeah, probably before her evil stepmother tried to kill her, and again after she’d married her prince.

“Great job,” Theon said with a smile. “That’s going on the fridge.”

Eddie beamed. Then swung his tiny head around to the television as the story changed. Footage of a ribbon cutting ceremony came on the screen. The headline banner read: New Hospital Open. A middle-aged man dressed in a sharp suit cut the ribbon to a round of soft applause, which faded as the reporter’s voice took over. “In other news, Mercy Medical Center’s new children’s wing opened today. Bolton Children’s Care was built largely with funds from philanthropist Ross Bolton, who has also set up a charity to help pay for medical costs for chronically ill children.”

Eddie’s eyes were on the man in the suit. “That’s the bad man’s daddy,” he said.

Theon felt a creeping dread begin to form in his gut. “What man?”

“The bad man,” Eddie said, turning to face him. “He also hurt Aunt Jane and all those other ladies. And that man—” He pointed to the screen. “He’s the one who let them cut off Papa’s head. He’s not a good man.”

“Eddie, stop talking.”

“He tried to make you think you’re the one who let them cut off Papa’s head, but that’s because he’s a liar.”

“Eddie—”

“It’s his fault Papa died, not yours.”

“I said stop talking!”

Theon grabbed Eddie’s arm and shook him, trying to get him to be quiet. He didn’t even realize Eddie was crying until Rob wrestled him off. And slapped him across the face.

“What. The _fuck_. Is wrong with you?” his husband hissed.

Theon held a hand to his stinging cheek as Rob rushed to comfort Eddie, pulling him into his arms. He rolled up Eddie’s sleeve to reveal a big, red welt taking form where Theon had gripped him far, far too roughly.

Theon swallowed. “I…I’m sorry.”

Rob shot him a hateful glare. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” he said. “But whatever it is, don’t you dare take it out on the children.” Rob kissed the top of the crying boy’s head. “Laura, can you pack your overnight bag?”

Laura, who had stopped dancing and was now watching with wide eyes, said in a tiny voice, “Are we having a sleepover?”

“Yeah, at Aunt Sandra’s house. Go get your bag, sweetie.”

“Wait, Rob, you don’t—”

“I’m taking the kids, Theon.” Rob stood, Eddie still in his arms. The boy’s crying had faded to sniffling as he buried his face in his papa’s sweater. “And we’re not coming back until you’ve dealt with this. Understand?”

Theon watched numbly as Rob tore into their bedroom and haphazardly packed a duffle bag, stuffing in clothes and toiletries with little thought. It was very unlike Rob. When he was done, he packed a bag for Eddie, and by that time, Laura had emerged from her room with her pink Hello Kitty backpack, the one she usually used when going to friends’ sleepovers. Holding Eddie in one arm and Laura’s hand in the other, Rob left without so much as a word. Or a glance back.


	13. Do I Know You?

“I fucked up, Ashley. I really fucked up.”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Theon. It’s going to be alright.”

“No it’s not! I hurt Eddie. I made him cry!” Theon slapped a hand over his mouth, though he knew Ashley couldn’t see if over the phone. “I’m just like Mother.”

“No you’re not.”

“Rob took the kids,” he said. “They went to his sister’s house. I don’t…” The pot on the stove was boiling from where Rob had been making dinner, now left unattended. “I don’t know what to do, Ashley. I think…I think I should…”

“Now wait, wait just a minute. Theon, you’re not thinking of hurting yourself, are you?”

He didn’t answer because he was.

“Theon, I’m serious. Go sit down on the couch. I’ll be right over.”

He didn’t answer.

“Theon!”

He hit the end button and let the phone slip from his fingers onto the countertop. Numbly, he turned off the stove, then the television, then took his keys and walked out of the house. Left it unlocked so that Ashley could get in and take care of Olaf.

He walked. Not along the sidewalk, because Ashley could drive by and see him. He cut through backyards, over manicured lawns, swimming pools, flowerbeds. A few times, motion-detecting lights went off and struck him full in the face, but he just threw his hand up to cover his eyes and picked up his pace. He walked and walked until he got to the golf course on the far side of their neighborhood, and there he jumped the fence and continued walking.

It was twilight, and the golfers had all gone in for the evening. Only a few caddies remained on the course. Across the wide expanse of lawn, the clubhouse was all alight. The sounds of music and talking drifted over. Theon was so busy watching the diners through the large windows—wondering about their lives, if they were also people he knew from Westeros—that he stumbled into a moat, soaking his shoes, socks, and pants up to his knees. One of the caddies came running.

“Are you alright, sir?”

_No. No, I’m not alright._

“Come inside and dry off.”

At least he thought Theon was one of the club members. It was not something that Theon had ever felt the need for, joining a golf club. He supposed he was dressed like one of their patrons, though, so he allowed the young caddy to escort him to the clubhouse. _Ashley will never look for me here. Maybe I can order a drink at the bar. How wasted can I get before they kick me out?_

Together, he and the caddy made their way up the stairs towards the lobby just as a car pulled up in the turnaround. “Sir,” a voice said, and Theon turned on instinct. Even though his logical brain identified it as a man’s voice, his irrational mind told him that Ashley had found him, she was going to have him committed, she was going to try to _talk_ to him. It was just a valet, though, not even talking to him but one of the patrons making their way down the stairs. “Your car is ready, Mr. Snow.”

Theon turned back and saw a familiar face coming towards him. A face with a mouth full of pointed teeth smiling through thick lips. A face with eyes the color of ice.

“Ramsay…”

The smile faded and those ice-blue eyes blinked. “Yes, I’m Ramsey Snow,” he said, looking confused. He held out his hand, as if to offer a handshake, but uncertainly. “Do I know you?”

Something in Theon snapped.

He lunged at Ramsay, knocking him over. And once he had him down, he punched that familiar face. Again and again until his knuckles hurt and were covered in blood. “You know me!” he screamed. “I’m Theon! Not Reek! _Not_ Reek!” The body under him sputtered and fought back, but Theon was vicious. Punch after punch, unleashing all of the anger, the fear,  the frustration on this old enemy. Until hands grabbed him and hauled him back.

He struggled. He bit a hand that got too close to his mouth. Was it the caddy or the valet? Or was it one of the Bastard Boys? Whoever it was, they got him onto the ground and pinned him as he shrieked words that were meaningless even to himself.

“I’ll call the cops,” the caddy said.

“ _He’s_ the monster!” Theon protested, wriggling like a worm about to be hooked. “It’s not me! It’s him! He’s the one who—”

“Yes, police? One of our patrons was just assaulted by a crazy man.”

“No, I’m not crazy.” Theon gave one last struggle before collapsing onto the ground. The valet’s weight was heavy on his back. “I’m not crazy,” he repeated, though no one was paying attention. “I’m not. I’m not. I’m not crazy.”


	14. Don't Leave Me All Alone

_He was alone and it was dark. So dark. The days were so short. And cold._

_Even though it was cold, he was burning up. His skin melted the snow. He huddled in on himself, delirious with fever. These were the last minutes of his life. He could feel it. He knew. His breath wasn’t even strong enough to fog as it left his torn lips._

**_This is how I die. And I don’t even know who I am._ **

_He had been born Theon Greyjoy. He was a third son of the Lord of the Iron Islands. Then he was the_ first _son and a prince. Then he was a hostage. Or was he a ward? Then he was a traitor, and then he was a murderer. And then he was a prisoner. And after that he was Reek. Then he was Theon Greyjoy again, for a little bit, when he retook Moat Cailin. And gave Arya away at her wedding. But then it was back to Reek. Then he was a traitor again, to a different master, and he was Theon Greyjoy again. Then he was a prisoner again, but he was still Theon Greyjoy. He didn’t remember what happened after that. He didn’t remember how he got here. Was he still Theon Greyjoy? Or was he back to Reek?_

**_I don’t even know who I am._ **

_The wind howled. The trees groaned. They were falling over, too laden with snow to continue standing. He had fallen over a long time ago._

_The wind had a voice. “Theon,” it said._

_He closed his eyes._

**_This is how I die._ **

“Theon!”

He opened his eyes.

He was warm. Perhaps a bit too warm. Bundled in a blanket. When he tried to push it away, he found that he couldn’t move. His wrists and ankles were cuffed. Soft cuffs. Not the biting steel of the Dreadfort dungeons, or the shackles Stannis Baratheon had put him in. No, he wasn’t in Westeros. Westeros didn’t have beds like these—hospital beds.

“Theon!” the voice called again, slightly muffled.

He raised his head as best he could. He was in a hospital room, sterile and neat, but it was the movement just outside the door that drew his attention. The blinds had been drawn over the window, but flashes of red were visible through the gaps. The window suddenly shook as someone banged on it from the outside.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you—”

“That’s my husband! My husband’s in there!”

“Do you have—?”

“Here’s my ring. He’s got one just like it. Now open the goddamned door and let me in.”

Theon’s heart raced at the sound of the lock clicking. The door swung open and Rob came running in, pushing the uniformed guard out of the way.

He ran straight to Theon’s side and wrapped his arms around Theon’s neck. Held him for a moment. Then took a step back and cupped Theon’s face. His own face was red with tears, but he smiled and sniffled. “They called me,” he said. “I came as soon as I could.”

“The kids?”

“They’re with Sandra.” A gentle hand brushed over his mouth, and that hurt. “Are you alright? It looks like they busted your lip.” Rob frowned. “I’m going to report them for police brutality.”

Theon’s tongue darted out to taste the blood on his lip. Yep, busted. In fact, his entire face felt swollen. It took him a second to remember why. Oh, right, he’d assaulted a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger. The man who’d held him against his will for over a year, beaten, tortured, and raped him on countless occasions, and beaten, tortured, and raped countless other people, mostly young women. But all of that was in another life. Or maybe hadn’t happened. Probably not the best defense when he went to trial for assault charges.

All of that after a night of physically abusing his son, driving his family out of the house, sending suicidal messages to his sister, and trespassing on his neighbors’ properties. The cops’ patience had to be wearing pretty thing. And here was Rob, staring down at him with concern long after a normal person would have given up.

“What are you even doing here?” Theon asked.

“The police called me. On my cellphone. Then I got a call from your sister.”

“But why are you here?”

Rob ran a hand through Theon’s sweat-slicked hair. “Why wouldn’t I be? Yeah, we had a fight, but, Jesus, Theon, I’m not going to stop loving you just like that. You’re going to have to work a little harder, huh?” He cracked an uncertain smile.

Theon turned his head away, suddenly unable to even look Rob in the eye. “Now I know all of this is just a figment of my dying mind.”

“Huh?”

“I’m dying over there. In Westeros.”

“Westeros? What’s Westeros?”

“I wandered out into a snowstorm to die. They say it’s a relatively painless way to go, freezing to death. My heartbeat is slowing. My vital functions are shutting down. And my mind is creating this whole other life for me, some sort of wish fulfillment. Everything I ever wanted but never had.”

Tears welled up behind his eyes, but because he was cuffed, he was powerless to wipe them away.

“Robb Stark was kind and patient, but he wasn’t…he wouldn’t forgive me after what I did. Nobody would.”

“Theon, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, Rob.” He squeezed his eyes closed, and the tears came loose from his eyelashes. “I’m so sorry. I so badly wanted a second chance to make things right with you. It’s selfish of me to have done this to you, even if it’s just my own imagination.”

“Theon.” A hand on his chin pulled his head back. “Theon, please. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know where your mind is, but I need it here with me.” A warm forehead pressed against his own. “Please, Theon. Whatever it is you did that you think I won’t forgive you for…I can’t even imagine what you’re going through to think I would hate you so much. I could never hate you.” Gentle lips brushed against his own. “Please, come back to me, Theon. I need you here. Don’t leave me all alone.”

Leave him? He wasn’t leaving because he wanted to. He was leaving because he couldn’t continue to disrespect the memory of the man he loved.

_The last time he’d seen Robb had been at the camp. Only Theon hadn’t known it would be the last time. Robb had come to see him off and wish him well on his journey. Theon had laughed easily and embraced Robb. “When you see me next, I’ll be Lord of Casterly Rock and you’ll be the true King in the North.”_

_Robb smiled back. But it was a sad smile. “Come back to me soon, Theon,” he said. “I can’t do this by myself.”_

Come back.

_Was that what I was supposed to do with this life_? Theon wondered. _Was I supposed to come back to him_?

Something warm and wet hit Theon’s cheek. He looked up into Rob’s face, covered in tears and snot, contorted in pain, wracking sobs escaping lips drawn thinly downwards. _He’s crying_ , Theon realized, _because of me. **I** made him cry. _

He wanted to reach out and comfort him, but his wrists were still restrained.

Rob drew in a deep breath, and in that lull, Theon spoke. “Rob, honey. I’m here.”

The crying subsided into tiny whimpers.

“I’m here,” Theon repeated. “I’m not going anywhere.” He jangled the cuff on his wrist and laughed weakly. “I can’t. See?”

Rob took the hand in his own and squeezed so hard it hurt. But a good hurt. A grounding sort of hurt. “It’s going to be alright.”

And for the first time since this had all started, Theon believed him.


	15. Somewhere Far from Here

Alanis was fussing with her doll’s dress when Theon came in. She didn’t look up when he sat down next to her, but he didn’t expect her to. “Hi, Mother,” he said, “how are you today?”

“I watched the news,” she informed him. “They sent a signal to the moon. I don’t know who they’re trying to contact.”

He waited an appropriate beat before announcing, “I just got out of the hospital.”

She looked up at that. Her eyes were wide.

“Nothing to worry about. I hit a man and had to be committed for seventy-two hours.” He flexed his right hand, which was still bruised and scabbed from pounding Ramsey Snow’s face in. “The guy didn’t press charges, though.” He learned that later, when Rob came to see him the next day.

Apparently Ramsey Snow had dropped by when he’d been asleep, which was probably for the best. Theon didn’t know how he’d have responded if he’d been awake. Rob had talked with him at length, though, and said he was a very pleasant man. Very understanding. He, himself, was currently undergoing psychiatric treatment for major depression and had attempted suicide just a few weeks prior, according to Rob, so he understood how devastating mental illness could be. They’d parted on amicable terms, though Rob felt bad for admitting the guy gave him the creeps for some unknown reason.

“I just got out yesterday,” Theon continued, snapping at the band on his wrist. He could cut it off whenever he wanted; he just hadn’t gotten around to it. “I think I met with every doctor in the hospital. They said it was a…um, dissociative fugue.” Not schizophrenia, though a follow-up appointment had been scheduled. For now, the doctors prescribed anti-anxiety medication for the PTSD he seemed to have “spontaneously developed,” and it would be a lie to say those little pills didn’t take the edge off immensely.

Alanis was watching him intently. Her doll completely forgotten.

“I, um…came to say something to you, Mother. This whole experience…it’s given me a new appreciation for what you go through. All the things you tell me…they’re _real_ to you. I can tell you they’re not real until I’m blue in the face, but that doesn’t change your reality. Does it?”

She put her hands in her lap.

“I guess I wanted to say…I’m sorry if you ever felt like I left you behind. I wasn’t always the most understanding. When I was a kid, I didn’t understand why you changed so suddenly. I didn’t understand where you’d _gone_.” He put his hands in his own lap and stared at them. “I talked with your nurse. She says that if you’re having a really good day, I might be able to bring the kids over.”

The kids had thrown him a coming home party, and Eddie said he forgave him for grabbing his arm. “See, it doesn’t even hurt anymore,” he’d said, rolling his sleeve up to show his fading bruises. Theon had cried and hugged his son close and promised to never ever hurt him again. It terrified him to think it was a promise he might not be able to keep.

“Would you like that, Mother?” He looked up from his lap and found that Alanis was looking right at his face. “Would you like to meet your grandchildren?”

She was silent a moment. “You have a little girl?”

Theon nodded. “And a little boy. His name is Eddie and her name is Laura.”

She slid the doll across the table. “You’ll give this to her. I don’t know when her birthday is, so you’ll have to apologize for me. I’ve been a terrible grandmother.”

“Oh no, Mother, no.” Theon stood and knelt down to hug her. She hugged back, crying into his shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You haven’t even had a chance to be a grandmother. I’ll give Laura the doll. She’ll love it.”

“Theon,” Alanis murmured into his ear. “My Theon. My baby. I’m so glad you’re back.”

 

***

 

Robb pulled his shirt off, folded it, and set it in the hamper. “How did things go with your mom?” he asked as he went on to his pants.

“Good.” Theon pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. “Really good.”

“Good,” Rob parroted. He slipped into his pajama bottoms, one foot at a time.

“Rob. Can you promise me something?”

Rob pulled the drawstring tight. “Sure.”

“If I ever start to act like—”

Rob came over and placed a finger against Theon’s lips, silencing him. “I’ve got it,” he said. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you.” He leaned in and replaced the finger with his lips. The kiss was brief and chaste, almost like their very first, half a lifetime ago. “I won’t ever leave you. Got it?”

 

***

 

_That night, Theon dreamed the snow was so high he could no longer see the sun. He was so cold that his body seemed to actually glow with warmth. **This is how I die** , he thought, and it didn’t scare him at all. He’d lived longer than he should have. He’d survived Stannis’s execution, when a surprise attack had allowed Asha to sneak him from the camp. He’d joined the Night’s Watch, where he’d survived the Long Night and the Battle for the Dawn. He’d survived the crumbling of the Wall and the disbanding of the Night’s Watch—there were so few of them left, and the truce with the Children demanded it._

_He’d survived into summer and then into winter again. He gathered children, orphans, from the War. Jeyne Poole took care of the children he brought her, along with her sister Septas. Theon never found the faith to become a Septon himself, but he was glad that Jeyne had been able to find comfort in it. She told him that the Seven had seen the remorse in his heart and had forgiven him his sins. It was a pleasant thought, and she probably even believed it._

_Winter came again. The maesters said it would be mild. One day, about five months in, when the snow had covered the roof of Theon’s little hut, he went out to gather wood for the never-ending fire. And got lost in the whiteness. Such an odd thing, since the sun had not shown for weeks. He wandered for hours but could not find his way back. Almost like the hut had disappeared. So he lay down in the snow. No one would come looking for him. Not until spring._

_He hadn’t moved from that spot. He hadn’t seen anything in hours, hadn’t heard anything besides the howling of the wind. His mind began to make shapes in the snow, and his ears heard voices in the wind. He saw his life begin to take form and wondered if there wasn’t something more pleasant to ease him from this ruined shell._

_That’s when he heard a very distinct, “Theon.” As if someone were speaking directly into his ear._

_He knew that voice, but he couldn’t find the strength to turn. “Robb?”_

_“Theon, it’s time to go.” A warm hand on his shoulder. The last shivers of his body stopped. “I’ve been waiting for you.”_

_“I know. I left you. I should have come back.”_

_“I’ve been waiting a long time.”_

_“Sorry. I shouldn’t have made you wait so long to get your revenge.”_

_“Is that what you think?” The warm hand brushed through his hair. “I’m here to punish you?”_

_“You’re not here to take me to whichever hell I belong in?”_

_“No. I’m here to make you an offer.”_

_“Hmm?” was all Theon could manage. He was so tired._

_“Come with me.”_

_Theon was lifted up. Or maybe the world fell away around him. Whichever it was, for the first time in seventeen years, he felt no pain. His bones didn’t ache, his scars didn’t burn. He felt whole. He was standing, Robb’s warm hand in his own. And Robb was smiling at him. Sadly._

_“I’m sorry,” was all Theon could think to say._

_“I know. I forgive you.”_

_“Just like that?”_

_“Just like that.”_

_Theon stared at their joined hands for a long moment. Robb let him._

_Finally, he said, “What did you want to offer me?”_

_Robb smiled. Happy this time. “I found somewhere,” he said._

_“Somewhere?”_

_“Somewhere else. Come with me.”_

_“Where?”_

_“Somewhere far from here. Somewhere where we can try again.”_

_He tugged on Theon’s hand, and Theon followed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for joining me on this strange little experiment. Thanks to the original, anonymous prompter and thanks, as always, to everyone who read, commented, and left kudos. As a final note, Eddie was inspired by [antecdotes like these](https://diply.com/omg-facts/creepiest-children-stories/91728).

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit and feedback always welcome. Thanks for reading.


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